Awake My Soul
by verumficta
Summary: Merlin/Arthur *Camelot!AU*  Merlin won't wake up.


Awake My Soul

The scream is wrenched from Arthur's throat, he can hear it in his head, in his heart, that single word that summed up his heart, soul and existence in it's entirety. A simple word. A name.

"_**MERLIN!"**_

Arthur is beside his friend in seconds, his arms shaking Merlin, his palms stroking those pale cheeks, his fingers combing through that wet dark hair; his gaze flicks to Merlin's pale lips for a second and he bends down to warm them up with his own when he feels hands pulling him back.

He does not understand the words that the hands utter; only that they are restraining him, holding him back from Merlin, who lay so still, so quiet, so alone on the ground. Arthur roars, he does not recognize the faces of his knights who hold him and bind him. Everything is blurry, tears and rain cloud his vision and the only thing he seems to see, to know, to _feel _is Merlin.

"Let him go." He knows not who those words belong, only that the hands are finally gone; that he is finally free to go to Merlin. Arthur rises quickly, but as he does so a hand clamps down hard on his shoulder. "You killed the sorcerer, Arthur. I am proud of you."

Arthur shrugs his father's hand off and rises. The Arthur before Merlin, Prince Prat, his friend would call the old him, would have given up everything he had, including his _life_, to have heard those words come from his father's mouth.

But now that he had Merlin, now that he _has _Merlin; Arthur realizes that he cannot bear to lose him. He would give anything, everything he has, including his life to save that of his friend's. "He was very brave for a servant, Arthur, very loyal; it will be hard to find a replacement in that area."

Arthur's hands fist at his sides, he is so angry, _so angry _at everybody_. _At his father suggesting that his loyalty was Merlin's _only_ good trait, but most of all for even _thinking _that Arthur would replace him. Arthur would never replace Merlin; not as his manservant, not as his friend, not as his protector, and not as his first, and only love.

He had thoughts of Merlin as more than a friend before; as someone who would warm his bed as Merlin already warmed his heart, as someone who would press their lips to his, someone who would trust him, rely on him, _love _him, and let him do the same in return without breaking him.

Arthur was sure Merlin could do all of those things, _be _all of those things. Sometimes, under the dark cover of night, the prince of Camelot lets himself dream of the future, one where he is King and where the people of Albion are united and whole as one. A future where they are his people.

A future where Merlin is ruling by his side as his royal consort, advisor, sorcerer, protector, friend, lover; as _his_ king. Together they would rule Camelot as equals. Arthur's tears are evident now, his eyes a harsh red. The Prince gathers up his love in his arms, the bright, violent red of his cloak a painful contrast to the pale, empty chill of Merlin.

"He's a _servant, _Arthur. Let the others care for him. Come, we must celebrate_." _Camelot's king ignores his predecessor and continues up the steps into the castle, his lover in his arms. _"Stop him!" _He hears Uther snarl, and the knights reach forward to grab him, as Arthur whispers, "Please, open the door."

His knights do as they're asked as Uther tries and fails to command them to stop him. Uther stands outside in the rain as Camelot's knights follow their king into the castle. He watches Camelot's king rule without a crown; the cold metal ring around his head brings him no comfort.

Arthur lays Merlin on his bed just as Gaius storms into the room. "What happened!" But Arthur doesn't explain and Gaius doesn't listen, he is too busy mumbling under his breath and pouring remedies down Merlin's throat. Arthur's fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, he is weary, exhausted, but most of all he just misses Merlin.

"He was hurt with magic, Gaius. You are free to heal him with the same." Gaius freezes and turns to stare at Arthur. His fatigue must show through because the physician just nods and carries on reviving Merlin.

Arthur feels useless, just so damn useless. He cannot save Merlin's life now, there's nothing he can do. He couldn't push Merlin out of the way when that stupid _fool _jumped out in front of him to save him; he didn't bring him back soon enough, too caught up in his vengeance and grief.

He had attacked the sorcerer, stabbing his body, mutilating it until he had heard a faint, "Stop, Arthur." from where Merlin laid, the rain drops pooling red below him.

"There is nothing more we can do, Sire. He has to rest."

Arthur barely notices the door closing behind him as he's already crossing over to the bed where his love lay. He rests his head on Merlin's chest where he sobs, tears soaking into his shirt. He missed Merlin. _God,_ how he missed the idiot. He strokes his lovers hair and whispers the simple word, a name, that summed up his heart, soul and existence in it's entirety.

The King of Albion would do the same everyday for years to come. He would whisper his lover's name, crying, his tears never dry even after five years of endless rain. The people of Albion waited for their king to return to them, for though he ruled the land, and ruled it well; it was obvious to everyone where his heart truly lay.

Arthur's heart stayed with Merlin's as he lay on Arthur's bed, never moving, scarcely breathing, moving slowly through time; seemingly stuck yet forever moving. Arthur whispers his dreams of the future into his love's skin every night as he crawls into bed with him, warming the other's cool skin.

Arthur kisses Merlin as he readies himself to once again whisper his dream into his lovers ear, when he feels pressure back on his lips. He gasps, pulling back to see bright blue eyes gazing back at him.

"_Merlin."_

The King's dreams would come true.


End file.
